To Travel with Wings REDUX
by Tari Ciryatan
Summary: Join Glorfindel, the twice born Balrog Slayer, in his varied attempts to play matchmaker with the citizens of Imladris. From Elrond to Erestor no Elda is safe not even Glorfindel who finds himself an unwittingly participant in these games of love.
1. The Last Alliance

The morning dawned cool and fresh a relief to the events of the day before. War was being wrought on these plains and the ground was soaked with the blood of many kindred. A rising sun and cloudless sky would seem to many a good fortune.

Walking amidst the tents and sleeping men a lone figure strode. In the weak morning light she appeared almost ethereal. Her hair was a fiery red so rarely seen amongst her kin and her eyes were blue like the sky on a cloudless spring day. She was small of stature and it belied the many Ages she had walked Middle Earth. Her eyes, however, held wisdom and sorrow unending. Once she had laughed with abandon and her eyes had always been bright with joy, but in this time there was little to rejoice. A great doom was laid upon them and she was not sure if they would escape it.

In the many Ages of her life she had served various purposes. Here she played Healer and it was an occupation she enjoyed. For numerous years she had been both tutor and healer to the Númenóreans, but in times of war there were few children to teach.

What paths had led her to this place? There were far too many to count. It seemed so long ago that Maedhros had found her wandering on the plains of Lothlann. His brother, Maglor, had been with him and once they judged her harmless had taken her back to their home. There she found some semblance of family and a place to belong. Her past had been a mystery to her and the brothers but they deemed her of Valinor though they could only guess at her tribe. All of the Noldor had grey eyes and the only Elda they had seen with blue came of Ingwë's line, but none of those had red hair. She had not been bothered by it and named herself Silnar, but to those people of Maedhros they named her Vanwamíne, lost one, and referred to her as such in their speech.

She dwelt for many years in their land and fought by their side against their dark foe. In those days any willing to take up a sword was welcome though few of their daughters did. It was not until the slaying of Dior Eluchíl and his wife Nimloth that she departed their company. She then abode with Galadriel and Celeborn with whom she had befriended during one of the Lady's visits to the home of Maedhros. During those many years Silnar refused all entreaties sent to her by Maedhros and Maglor. Her heart had turned bitter towards them and their useless Oath. She would not allow herself to be tainted by that wickedness.

If Silnar had had her way never again would she have laid eyes on the treacherous sons of Fëanor. Fate, however, decreed another path and when news came of the third kin slaying, Silnar journeyed to the home of Maedhros. There she found the sons of Eärendil frightened and lost in their new surroundings. For hours she upbraided her one time friends and then took charge of the boys. Maglor was of some help in the following years, but Maedhros would have little to do with the children. The oath had consumed him and he spent much of his time contemplating its fulfillment.

When she noticed that Elrond held a passing fancy in healing she spent some time helping him master the art. Elros, however, took greater stock in the art of battle and Maglor spent time teaching him swordsmanship. It came time, however, when the boys were of age to send them away for further learning. The land had become ever more dangerous, and, fearing for their safety, Silnar had the brothers sent to Círdan and Gil-galad. They were both eager and saddened for they would miss their foster family, but they were terribly excited to stay with the Noldor King.

It was a blessing they had done so, for it was not long by the reckoning of Elves that the host of Valinor appeared and made war with Morgoth. The world shook with the fierce battle and when it was finished the land was ever changed. Silnar went with the brothers at the finish and was there when they stole the Silmarils. She had watched sadly as each went to their final fate.

The _Eldalië_ were leaving Middle Earth and Silnar Vanwamíne watched them depart. She felt no urge to leave for the West. Many were of the same notion and it was in Silnar's mind to seek out the children of Eärendil whom she had raised. She found them with their Father and was amazed at their growth. Eärendil could not tarry, however, and he bid his sons farewell and ascended once more into the heavens.

Thus it was that Silnar was reunited with Elrond and Elros and they dwelt together near the Sea for a time. The Valar had given them both a choice and the brothers chose diverging paths. While the mighty Valar raised an island from the waters, Elros gathered what Edain would come and prepared them for the journey to their new home. It was during this time that Silnar found her heart turned towards Elros though she did not do so happily for she was of the _Eldalië_ and he had chosen to be numbered among the Edain and from them had chosen a wife. So it was with a heavy and bitter heart that Silnar welcomed the wife of Elros into her home for a little while. She hid her torment well, however, and it was only the piercing eyes of Elrond who perceived her true heart's desire. He counseled her gravely on this and she begged him to keep it secret for it was both her shame and delight. To this he agreed and his heart was moved to pity for her perilous position.

Soon, however, the land set aside for Elros was complete and he gathered his people onto great ships. He begged for Silnar to accompany him wishing for her guidance and she who loved him so deeply could refuse him nothing. To Elros she was as his mother for he remembered little of Elwing and Silnar was wise with the Ages.

On Elrond's part, however, was fury at Silnar's decision for he feared no good would come of her choice. They parted bitterly and with angry words. To no one would Elrond speak of that night and he promised never to look upon Silnar in happiness again. For her part, Silnar was angry at Elrond's lack of trust and faith and for many years she would not speak his name. Elros knew little of their argument and assumed, wrongly, it was a lover's quarrel. He did not pester either one knowing too well the pride each carried.

As the years passed, Silnar made Númenor her home and dwelt in some happiness with its people. Over the years her unrequited love for Elros tempered and she hid it deep within the confines of her heart. She delighted instead in his children and tutored them in both Eldar and Edain lore. Thus was her role set and while their lives were long so the men of Númenor must pass, but Silnar was never changing, a rock for which the Kings leaned on in times of trouble. To occupy her time, Silnar schooled many of the Númenóreans in healing and had houses built dedicated to such. The peace of Númenor could not last forever even though Silnar attempted valiantly to keep alive love for the Valar. As time wore on the Númenóreans became prideful. It was in the time of Ar-Adûnakhôr that Silnar disappeared from the palace and many believed she had departed for the West and most were glad to see her go. The King had outlawed the use of any Eldarin tongue and Silnar was weary of fighting a losing battle. She did not, however, fully abandon these people she had so come to love. Silnar was hidden by the Faithful and there she continued to school their children in the old ways. It was by her that Inzilbêth learned of the old might of Númenor and passed such knowledge onto her son.

During the reign of Tar-Palantir Númenor regained some of its old splendor, but Silnar yet remained hidden. Her heart forebode her that danger was yet on the horizon. She was correct and in the age of Ar-Pharazôn the end of Númenor was wrought. Silnar fled the destruction of her home with the Faithful and was with Elendil when he landed on the shores of Middle Earth. There they built great cities though none surpassed old Númenor. In this time Silnar acted as an emissary on behalf of Elendil with Gil-galad and divided her time between the two. It was good that Elendil did this for Sauron would not stay silent forever. His attack on Gondor caused Isildur to flee north to his Father and an Alliance was formed between the Edain and the Eldar.

It was decided first to march the host to Imladris home of Elrond Peredhil. There many were met with joy, but the meeting of Elrond and Silnar was cool at best. It was only pride now that barred reconciliation and none could force it. Instead, Silnar remained with Elendil and stood always by his side.

A shaft of light fell on Silnar's face and brought her from her memories. She stood in front of the tent she had been seeking and went inside. Elendil slept restlessly and Silnar felt a fresh wave of grief wash over her. He had not slept often after the death of Anárion his son. For nigh on seven years they had been battling Sauron and it was wearing on all.

"Elendil awaken for Gil-galad has need of you," Silnar whispered. His eyes snapped open and focused clearly on hers.

"It is morning already?" he asked rising from his bed. Silnar nodded and helped him into his armor.

"A Council of War I assume," Silnar replied to his unanswered question. "Though I know not how this one shall be different from those that came before."

Elendil spared her a brief smile. "Aye, but where would men be without their Councils?"

"A joke so early in the morn? Why Elendil I am proud." Silnar touched her hand briefly to his cheek and then departed. Her business was with the healers and she had no time for Councils.

The tents of the Healers were yet quiet. A few walked between injured men lending aid and quiet words. Silnar spent the morning going over their stock and fretting over the low stores.

It was in the afternoon that they felt the very ground tremble violently and all knew that some end had come. They waited then, breathlessly, for some news. Silnar had strapped her sword to her waist. If Sauron was indeed victorious she would go to the Halls of Mandos fighting. A messenger came shortly begging the help of healers and most departed for the battlefield. The boy was too weary for questions and Silnar sent him to bed. She then asked several healers to wait behind to tend to the current patients and led the rest to the field.

The destruction was far and wide and men cried and screamed in bitter agony. The healers, however, had become deadened over the years and quickly set about their work. Silnar saw Isildur from afar and strode single mindedly to his side. There the sorrow of the final battle unfolded. Side by side lay Gil-galad, mighty King of the Noldor and Elendil, valiant King of Gondor. Isildur Silnar took into her arms and held him as he wept for his Father and his brother though Anárion had been lost a year before.

By the power of the Elves were the bodies preserved. Elendil they laid to rest in Gondor and Silnar once more forsook her people and followed Isildur. She was there with him when he fell and was sorely wounded. Only due to the valiant efforts of Ohtar did she arrive alive at the gates of Imladris. There the squire of Isildur turned over to Elrond the sword that was broken and begged for the healing of Silnar. Thus did Elrond put aside his wrath and heal Silnar though it was a struggle and many times he nearly lost her.

When Silnar finally awoke and learned of all that occurred her heart softened toward Elrond and she forgave him for his bitter words spoken so long ago. Valandil often visited her and asked for her to return with him, but Silnar gently refused. So it was with a slightly heavy heart the new King of Gondor departed for his kingdom. Silnar stood at the windows of the healing room and watched his party until they were lost even to Elven sight.

"Where now shall you travel Vanwamíne? It is odd that you refused the invitation of those you love."

Silnar looked up from perch on the window sill to stare at the impassive face of Elrond Peredhil. "My place is no longer with the Edain. By your leave I ask to tarry here awhile."

"With your own people? Quite shocking," Elrond said in a mocking tone. "One thinks you have had enough of seeing them wither away while you remained young and green."

Silnar shot Elrond a sharp look, but ignored his taunts. "I may no longer hide with the Edain. It is time I took my place and accepted whatever destiny the Valar have laid on me."

Elrond was curious as to what she meant but would not humor her by asking. Instead he merely nodded. "It is not to my liking that you would stay here, but I will not turn you away. There are few havens for our kindred these days and I have none to spare to guide you to the Havens or Lothlórien."

"My thanks," Silnar said dryly and returned to her contemplation of the scenery. Elrond knew that he had been dismissed and simmered as he stalked to his office. To be truthful he only vaguely remembered the argument they had before her departure. He knew also that his silence had been part of the reason she stayed so long in Númenor. He had been right, however, when he had said that her presence would later do ill. She would be a reminder that no matter how long the Edain stretched their life they would age and die. Perhaps it would be unfair to say she caused all of the dissension for Silnar was not the only Elda who went to Númenor, but she was held high in the house of the King and was often in the forefront. Really it was silly that they continued to argue so, but his pride would not allow him to admit it. He did, however, make sure to have a room prepared. He doubted she would tarry briefly.

A knock on the door several hours later brought Silnar out of her reverie and she called out entry. The door opened to reveal the golden visage of Glorfindel, Elrond's Seneschal and Captain. Many stories had been told of the valiant Glorfindel and his return from the Halls of Mandos. He alone had been given permission to return to Endor and fulfill his oath to the House of Turgon.

"Lady Silnar," Glorfindel said with a small smile. Silnar had stood at his entry and waited to see what he wanted.

"Elrond bid me to come find you and tell you a room has been prepared. It would not do for you to exist primarily in these rooms of Healing."

Silnar inclined her head. "I thank you and thank your Master as well. He is kind to allow me to stay."

She gathered her few belongings and followed Glorfindel through the halls. Elrond's house was masterfully crafted and the Halls were decorated with murals of ancient times. She took note of her surroundings so that she would be able to find her room later. There were many halls and it was easy to become lost.

The room was large and airy and faced one of the many gardens. A smaller room housed a bathing facility. Silnar approved of the quiet simplicity and said so.

"Elrond thought that you might appreciate this room. No one has ever used it."

Silnar raised an eyebrow at that tidbit of information but did not comment. Glorfindel waited a few moments before making his excuses. She smiled her farewell and reclined on a chaise. Her body was yet weak and Elrond doubted she would ever regain her former strength. Thus it was no surprise when her mind relaxed in the manner of Eldarin sleep and she walked once more the pathways of her past.

* * *

Thus begins the first chapter of what I have dubbed the Special Edition. This is how I really wanted the story to turn out. In the years since I began the first version of TTWW I feel I have grown as a writer and I do not believe I gave the characterization of Silnar and Glorfindel enough justice. So, if I garner any new readers out of this venture feel free to read the original version. This story will have the same gist as the first one but I have drastically changed the beginning. The more I thought of it the more I realized that Silnar would really not have had the sort of relationship she had with Maedhros and then turn instead to Glorfindel and as that is the character I always wished for her to be with I changed her love interest to Elros. I knew that such love could never be returned and it would make more sense for Glorfindel to win her heart. Of course Maedhros and Silnar will still have a relationship but it will identify more with the sibling aspect. I was also reading through the beginning chapter and realize how Sueish Silnar seemed and that I revealed the plot twist before I even had time to start the plot. Hopefully I've straightened up her character more.

I am a Tolkien purist and will reference many of his books that are not traditionally canon. In all actuality the only true canon stories are _The Hobbit_ and _The Lord of the Rings_. The other stories were history that Tolkien wrote out for his pleasure and use and his son brought together for those fanatics such as myself. There are many conflicts in the Histories and I have taken the liberty of choosing what I feel to be of use for my stories. My writing is for everyone to enjoy and I always try to clarify some of the more confusing aspects of Tolkien Universe.

I will forewarn that this is not for those fans who are strictly Movie goers. I despise the movies. I will state that here and now. I think that such a work so wonderful and deeply descriptive cannot be justly brought to the silver screen. It's foolish to try. Pick up a book people and I think you'll see many characterizations are completely different from Jackson's interpretation. I am sorry I digress.


	2. Players Introduced

* * *

Erestor was famed for his patience. It was why Elrond selected him of all his people to be his Chief Counselor and Master of Lore. Erestor loved nothing better then his books and would spend hours among the stacks in the library. It was why, at this moment, he was wincing every time he heard a loud bang from the south corner. Pressing his slender fingers to the bridge of his nose, he laid aside the manuscript he was translating and made his way to the section housing the lore of Valinor.

There the Master of the House was casually flipping through the pages of a very old and prized book on the tribes of the Eldalië. Not finding what he was looking for, Elrond slammed it shut and carelessly set it on the shelf. Erestor held his breath as it teetered precariously. Elrond was far too absorbed in his task to notice the Counselor and began searching through another book.

Erestor casually cleared his throat and the Lord of Imladris jerked in surprise. The disturbance of air was just what the book needed to topple off the shelf and land with a loud _thud_ on the floor. Erestor winced and regretfully picked up the book. It did not look as if the priceless tome had been damaged and he shelved it in its rightful spot. Elrond had the decency to look slightly sheepish and if Erestor had a sense of humor he would have laughed at the picture a dusty and sleep deprived Elrond made.

"My Lord Elrond I do not mean to be intrusive but is there something I may help you look for?"

Elrond tapped his fingers impatiently on the page of the book in his hand and looked at it for a moment. "All the books that I have and not a one describe much of the history before the Time of the Trees."

"Is there a specific reason you wish to delve in history so ancient?" Erestor prodded really wanting to get back to his manuscript. He did not, however, trust the Lord of Imladris in his current state. It looked as if the Peredhil had not slept for days and his braids were in dire need of straightening.

"Erestor, have you ever heard of the Eldar bearing both red hair and blue eyes?" Elrond queried staring intently at his Advisor. Under the stare of Elrond Peredhil any would have quailed and it took Erestor a moment to remember he was not a recalcitrant elfling but a grown ellon.

"My Lord Elrond there has been reports of Noldor with red hair, but they bore the grey eyes of their people. I do not believe any Telerin have ever reported either of your descriptions. I know also that the line of Ingwë-"

"Has blue eyes, but no red hair," Elrond waved a hand impatiently. "I know this already Erestor. I was merely wondering."

Managing to not roll his eyes, Erestor gave his Lord a brief smile and said, "If you would allow me, Lord Elrond, when I have finished my duties for the day I will do some research into this matter. I know this library well indeed and my search may be more fruitful."

Elrond nodded vaguely when they both heard the doors to the library open and close soundly. Erestor knew who it was even before the ellon came around the corner. Glorfindel and Erestor eyed each other warily when the golden haired Seneschal halted his progress. The two held a long standing feud after Glorfindel accidentally spilled a cup of wine over some priceless manuscripts. He had apologized profusely, but after Erestor had caustically remonstrated the Captain's lack of grace and appreciation for books, well, it had gone downhill from there.

"Erestor," Glorfindel said stiffly. The Counselor returned the greeting and began shelving books. "Elrond, I have been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been? You vanish for a few days without letting anyone know where you disappear to. Not wise my friend."

Elrond grumbled and handed Erestor the book in his hands. "Last I checked, Glorfindel, the Master of Imladris had leave to disappear whenever he willed it," Elrond snapped and then looked once more at Erestor, "Report to me if you find anything."

He nodded and watched Elrond glare at Glorfindel who merely smiled in response. Perhaps there was one Elda who could brave the piercing gaze of Elrond, but Erestor suspected the twice born fool did not know any better.

Glorfindel, much to Elrond's annoyance, shadowed him all the way back to his rooms. The Lord of Imladris contemplated slamming the door in his Seneschal's face, but knew not even that would be enough to stop the blasted elf. Glorfindel was everything that was single-minded, and while that was an appealing trait for a Captain of his guard, it tended to be annoying in a friend.

"Why were you looking through old books?" Glorfindel asked as his friend undid his messy braids and began the arduous task of brushing his hair.

Elrond really wanted to ignore the half-Noldo in hopes he would take the hint and find somewhere else to be, but realized it would be a waste of self-control. Glorfindel would not leave until he had a satisfactory answer.

"I was curious of the different traits to be found in the three tribes of the Eldar. I was looking for records of our people before the Time of the Trees but none could be found."

Glorfindel shook his head. "No, you will not find what you seek." His voice was sad and Elrond paused in his ministrations to look at the ellon through the mirror.

"Why do you say that? Imladris houses one of the most complete libraries in Endor."

The Seneschal picked at nothing on his tunic for a moment as if in thought. When he looked up his face was schooled in a neutral expression. "With the fall of Nargothrond, Beleriand, and Gondolin many great treasures of our people were lost forever. Among those were treasured manuscripts of the time before the Valar. Now, any tomes that survive were those taken over the sea."

Elrond nodded and continued brushing his hair. Speaking of the time before the War of Wrath was always difficult for Glorfindel. The ellon regained some semblance of cheer for he smiled and asked, "What do you wish to know? Are you also curious of the distinctive traits of our newest addition?"

Rolling his eyes, Elrond threw his brush on the vanity. "Glorfindel I was nearly raised by that elleth. I am quite used to her 'distinctive traits' thank you very much."

Glorfindel laughed. "Yet the mystery of it must set your teeth on edge! You have never been one to like mysteries, Elrond. Every thing must fit together like a picture."

Gritting his teeth, Elrond glared at his friend, "Are there not warriors to train today?"

With another cheerful laugh, Glorfindel bowed mockingly. "I know when I have been dismissed. Good luck in your search, Elrond."

The one time Balrog Slayer departed from the room and left its master in peaceful solitude. First, he decided, he would take a long bath and then maybe tackle some of the reports that were piling on his desk.

After the much needed bath Elrond grudgingly took a seat at his desk and began the tedious side of running a large community. While he loved Imladris there were times he missed the ease of his early years. There was a time when Silnar had been a dear friend and confidant. Unlike Elros, Elrond had seen Silnar as an older sister who took care of their needs and guided them through those tender elfling years. While Maglor had been an attentive guardian their life would have been drastically different without the gentle influence of Silnar. She was not consumed by oaths and jewels so her entire focus was on the two youngsters. It was Silnar who had introduced him to healing and drawn out his natural talent. It had not been long before he had surpassed his teacher. Silnar had been very pleased and always encouraged him to expand his knowledge. There were times he cursed his pride for he missed the calm presence Silnar provided. He no longer had his brother and with Gil-galad gone there was only Glorfindel to share his burdens. He dearly loved his twice born friend, but Glorfindel was almost useless when it came to handling affairs with the other kingdoms. He was a warrior and blunt about his opinions. Erestor was little better having patience only for his books. A distinct lack of advisors, however, had led to Erestor taking the position. It was hard to admit after the many harsh words he had spoken over the years, but he missed Silnar's friendship and her steady hand and advice. Very little intimidated her and she was as stubborn as he was. Together they had been unstoppable, but when forced on opposite sides of an issue were dangerous foes.

Sighing, Elrond laid down his pen and rubbed his forehead. It was difficult to concentrate with her so close. He really should go speak to her. Elrond almost stood to go her rooms but thought better of it and resumed his work. These reports really could not wait.

* * *

Silnar was debating. The sun was shining and the warmth of summer beckoned, but she was on strict bed rest for a few weeks more. Of course, no one would be surprised if she completely disobeyed orders and went outside, but Silnar was not sure if she wished to risk Elrond's wrath. He was allowing her refuge due to their old history, but she did not want to stretch his grace. For his own reasons he felt betrayed by her and, while Silnar could not fully blame him, it was not entirely her fault. Raising two elflings had not been easy and there were always instances where one would feel chosen over the other. Silnar had tried her best to minimize such issues but she probably had not been very successful.

Never would she regret choosing to leave with Elros. He had chosen the life of men and his time was limited. Even if she had not loved him she would have made the same choice. Elrond would have her friendship and guidance forever. Eru only knew when she would see Elros again.

No matter how much her heart ached to mend their broken friendship she would not do it. When Elrond had first visited Elros in his new home Silnar had tried to speak to him. He had refused to see her. Stung by his continual disregard Silnar had never tried again. After that disastrous attempt Silnar had found other activities to occupy her time when Elrond made his customary visit.

A stray breeze fluttered the gauzy curtains and brought the fresh scents of elanor into her room. Sighing in pleasure Silnar decided to risk her host's wrath and go into the garden. Conveniently on the ground floor, her window opened right onto the vibrant grounds.

Once outside Silnar felt the weight of the last few weeks disappear. Wandering deep into twisting vines of flowers and trees heavy with fruit Silnar waited until she could no longer see the house before she took a seat near an apple tree. A few birds flitted by twittering a summer song. Closing her eyes Silnar enjoyed the heavy warmth of the summer air.

All of her kind loved best to be outside. The Eldar came forth into the stars of night and there was something to be said about the beauty of the evening. Silnar, however, found her love given to the day. She loved the clear blue of cloudless skies and the golden orb Anar as he moved over the world. It was Anar that awoke the world from its sleep and brought forth all in Yavanna's care. It was why she had chosen her name for the kinship she felt with the sun.

With half closed eyes, Silnar watched the active gardens. Butterflies fluttered from flower to flower, their long tongues unwinding for the nectar. A family of rabbits loped by, stopping every so often to scent the air. Several squirrels were chattering in the apple tree, occasionally directing their noise towards Silnar. So still she sat that she became a part of the nature around her and it wasn't long before some of the more curious squirrels ran across her lap and shoulders. They thought her a new kind of tree and were interested in her bright hair. Their soft fur was ticklish and Silnar could not help the giggle that escaped. The squirrels were away with a flash and resumed their chattering in the trees. The sun had been high in the sky when Silnar first left her rooms and when she resumed her full senses she saw she had been sitting in the gardens for several hours. Hoping Elrond or one of his apprentices had not been by her room, Silnar moved as fast as she dared towards the house.

Luckily enough it did not look as if anyone had been in her rooms and Silnar took a seat at her vanity to brush and braid her hair. The wind had disturbed the carefully done work and there was no need to broadcast where she had been. She was just finishing her last braid when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Enter," she called, standing up and shaking out her skirts. A beautiful elleth stepped in and put her hand to her heart.

"My Lady Silnar, Elrond wishes to see you in the Room of Healing."

Silnar nodded her head graciously. "I shall be there shortly."

Trusting to memory, Silnar waited for the elleth to leave. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, Silnar patted her hair one last time and left her room. The hallways were confusing, but she had paid close attention to the murals and knew that the Room of Healing was situated next to a large painting of the Caves of Nargothrond. She became turned around once but realized her mistake and managed to find the gilded doors of the room. They were opened, as usual, and Silnar walked in. Elrond was filling a jar with some paste he had just made and gestured to a seat.

"How are you feeling?" He asked with a clinical tone of voice.

"I am faring well. My breathing is normal and I slept through the night."

Elrond cast a critical eye over his patient. "You were not in your rooms when I stopped by earlier."

Silnar had the grace to blush. "I could not resist the temptation of the gardens. I was only outside for a few hours."

"Well, a wise healer once told me fresh air and activity were the best medicine but try not to overdue it."

Sheepishly, Silnar inclined her head. "Yes, well, I should have also told you Healers make the worst patients."

Elrond smiled vaguely and paused in his task. "Silnar, I-"

"Please," Silnar said, holding up a graceful hand, "Let us not delve into the past today. I am not ready to spar with you Elrond and though it may begin as a tentative discourse it will evolve into a battle of wills and I am just not prepared to fight with you."

His lips pursed into a frown, but said nothing. Silnar knew somehow she had made things worse, but she was not in the mood for another argument. She did not want to rehash the past when she knew he was not ready to admit to any mistakes. She loved Elrond like the little brother she had never had, but he was a stubborn ellon who rarely admitted when he was wrong. It was mostly due to the fact that he was so rarely incorrect.

"In that case you are free to depart. If you wish to join us for the evening meal you may or something may be sent to your rooms."

"I believe I will dine in my room this evening," Silnar murmured. She was not ready to face the crowd of Eldar living in Imladris either. This way she could avoid the Halls of Fire afterward. As a new addition to their community the Elves would most definitely ask her for a song or story. In her current mood she was not inclined to do either. Her jaunt in the gardens had soothed her, but within the walls of this cold house, surrounded by murals of their beautifully bitter past made Silnar ache with the grief of the last few years. She wanted to return to her rooms and grieve for the loss of her family and her inability to return to them.

With a nod to Elrond, Silnar left and began the slow trek back to her room.

* * *

Silnar spent the next few days cloistered in her rooms. Elrond did not see her instead sending one of his apprentices. It was both a relief and insult to be relegated to another's hands.

On the eve of her fourth day in solitary there was a knock on her door. Her dinner had already been taken so there should have been no more disturbances. Opening the door revealed the golden visage of Glorfindel. A charming smile graced his features.

"My lady how lovely to see you," he murmured. "We have not had a chance to speak since the end of the war."

Silnar stared in disbelief at the roguish Captain. While Glorfindel was not invincible he had never spent much time in the healing tents. That had suited Silnar just fine as she had never really had much patience with the casual attitude he usually bore. Maedhros had never had much good to say about the friend of Turgon and while she knew she should not take the son of Fëanor's word on anything she still found some of her opinions colored by his perceptions.

Of course, if she had been killed by a Balrog and then sent back to the place of her death to risk her life again she might be as easygoing and carefree as the good Captain.

"Are you going to invite me in or am I to converse with you in the hallway?"

Silnar stared at the Captain wondering if it was conversation or something nefarious. She would not put it past this Noldo to pull some kind of prank on the 'staid Healer.'

Deciding against letting him in, Silnar stepped out into the hall and shut her door.

"We may walk outside if you wish to speak."

Glorfindel's smile widened, if possible, and gallantly offered her his arm. Silnar felt her heart thud, but primly took it and they made their way to a section of the gardens that was more secluded but still within sight of the house.

"You wished to speak with me?" Silnar prompted wondering why the irrepressible Elda needed to talk.

"I am worried about Elrond," Glorfindel said. "Ever since you have returned he has seemed possessed by some past anger."

Direct as well, Silnar thought and added it to the growing list of characteristics that were Glorfindel.

"Do you wish me gone from this place?" Silnar queried half hoping he'd say 'yes.'

Glorfindel shook his head. "I think you should both make amends. I still do not know what caused the rift. Actually, I did not know either of you before the rift, but that matters very little."

"They were careless words spoken in anger. I remember why we fought, but not the words we used. It was a terrible night for me."

Glorfindel nodded and patted her hand sympathetically. She looked up to meet his grey eyes and saw the sincerity. "He was hurt as well, my lady. I know that if you tried to speak with him he would be willing. He misses you even if he is reluctant to admit it."

"Why do you care?" Silnar asked, curious.

"Elrond is my friend," Glorfindel said simply. "And I am tired of seeing him unhappy."

"He needs a wife," Silnar mused.

There was silence and Silnar looked at her companion staring at her in muted shock.

"It is true," Silnar defended. "He has been alone far too long and it is lack of companionship that makes him so grouchy."

Glorfindel smirked. "Well, that and all the little stresses that comes with running a small community. He needs help from people he can trust."

At this he looked pointedly at Silnar who frowned. "He will not accept help from me. All the years we have spent in angered silence are not conducive to a trusting work relationship."

"Make him accept you," Glorfindel said with a hint of exasperation. "Gil-galad told me that you were a great help before the war with the administrative duties for Elendil. He mentioned also that when you stayed in Lindon, for a time, you assisted with many of the councils and advisements."

He was quiet for a few moments and then added, "Elrond needs an Advisor who can assume many of the little responsibilities to free his time for the larger issues. He will drive himself mad if he does not get help soon. I am useless and Erestor is not much better. My time is consumed with the defense of Imladris and Erestor is far too enamored of bookwork. He is good for research and copying histories but is far too blunt to speak with visiting dignitaries."

Silnar shot Glorfindel a halfhearted glare but nodded. "Very well, Captain, I will do as you ask. Do not be surprised, though, when this scheme explodes in your face."

The Captain of the Guard merely grinned in his charming way and kissed her hand. "All will be well, you shall see," he said as Ingrel tried to ignore the tingling in her hand.

* * *

-On the tribes of the Eldalië: Tolkien only ever truly described one of the tribes and this was the Noldor for his writings were chiefly about them. All the Noldor were dark of hair and had grey eyes. The Vanyar he described as being golden haired. I have read somewhere that the Telerin were silver haired but I am not for sure. The idea of Ingwë's line having blue eyes comes from a story by Watcherchild called _The Branch and the Yew Tree_. Excellent story I recommend it to anyone. The red hair is actually fairly realistic for Nerdanel had red hair and passed it on to several of her sons.

-When I say "time before the Valar" during the conversation between Elrond and Glorfindel I am referencing the time when the Eldalië lived in Cuiviénen where they first awoke. Even then the Noldor were devising languages and such so it only stands to reason the Calaquendi (Eldar who saw the Light of the Tees) would record those times. I would say even the Moriquendi (Eldar who did not see the Light of the Trees) would also make records. Elrond would not have access to many of these accounts as the first would be in Aman and the second destroyed in the various wars of Beleriand.

-War of Wrath refers to the Valar defeating Morgoth a second time and re-opening the way to Aman.

-Anar is the name given to the Sun. When he was placed in the sky all the minions of Morgoth quaked in fear of his light and power. This is why they hate the Sun nearly above all things.


	3. Pieces Moved

Morning found Silnar rummaging through a desk filled with papers and reports. _This place is a complete mess_, she thought disgustedly shifting through crop totals from last year. With a sigh, Silnar rested a slender hand on a folder tapping her finger despondently. Did she really want to involve herself so deeply in yet another community? She chuckled. _The real question is do I want to wrestle with Elrond over control of the paperwork._ Glorfindel was right though, if she did not find something to occupy her time she would be insane with boredom. Better to disrupt Elrond's disorderly life.

Hearing the doors to the library open and close, Silnar stood and watched an _ellon_ slowly move toward the desk. He was perusing an old manuscript and absently nibbling on a braid. This, she realized amusedly, must be Erestor.

She cleared her throat and he looked up, shocked, to see someone else in the library as early as he.

"May I help you?" He asked, hastily pulling his braid from his mouth.

Silnar smiled softly and nodded. "My name is Silnar and I am taking over the administer duties."

Erestor stared at her, dumbfounded. It took him a few minutes to process her statement. "My Lady, uh I was not aware Lord Elrond was unhappy with my work."

"He is not. At least, not that I know of, I believe. I just understand how stressful it is to care for this library. It is not fair to tax you with administer and ambassador duties."

"It is no burden," Erestor said stiffly. Silnar hid a smile, wanting to laugh at how apparent it was the librarian was lying.

"I am sure," Silnar soothed. "Truthfully I have become accustomed to such duties with Gil-galad and I find that I miss the distraction such work provides."

"Lord Elrond has not made me aware of these changes."

Silnar resisted the urge to sigh at the stubborn elf. "I am sure he just overlooked it. Now, if you could show me where you keep the files and notes?"

Erestor frowned deeply but gestured for her to follow. They moved to the west end of the library where Silnar saw crates of papers and books overflowing onto tables and floors. She looked, aghast, at the mess. Erestor blushed slightly.

"I am afraid I have been unable to spend much time ordering the information."

"Well," Silnar said with a cheerful smile. "I suppose I had better begin."

Erestor watched her look through different files for several minutes before he disappeared. Silnar, so engrossed in the task at hand, did not notice him leave.

* * *

"She's _what_?" 

Erestor winced at the rather high pitched end to Elrond's question and clutched his book like a shield. Glorfindel grinned as he parried another thrust of Elrond's sword. He loved to see the librarian off kilter.

"Whatever is the matter, Elrond? I think it is a wonderful idea," Glorfindel said, laughing as Elrond glared and slammed his sword against the other warrior's shield.

"I gave her no leave to meddle in my business!"

"I think it is splendid that Silnar is joining our tiny community. She has been cloistering herself away as if she had an illness. Besides, Gil-galad and Elendil prized her management skills."

Elrond frowned and paused in their mock battle to glare at the ground. "You planted this idea in her head, Glorfindel."

The other elf turned sober and looked at his friend and lord. "Elrond you have driven yourself almost to exhaustion trying to take care of every little detail. Allow Silnar to do what she does best and then you can spend more time with the citizens of our home. Besides, you cannot continue to rely on a librarian for ambassador duties."

Erestor glared at Glorfindel but did not disagree. Elrond sighed. "Fine. I can see that I am alone in my concerns about Silnar taking so much responsibility but as I am outvoted she may continue."

Glorfindel leaned over and stepped casually on Erestor's foot when the elf moved to protest. "Wonderful, Elrond, and I will now excuse you from our training to help acclimate Silnar with her task."

The golden haired Noldor moved towards the armory, whistling some happy tune. Elrond resisted the urge to throw his sword hilt at the irrepressible Captain.

"My Lord," Erestor began as Elrond moved towards the house.

Elrond waved him off. "Do not worry, Erestor. Glorfindel is merely up to his old tricks again."

The librarian huffed and then disappeared into another portion of the home as Elrond headed for the library. He had contemplated bathing and changing but decided Silnar could handle a smelly Elf Lord.

She was headfirst in a crate and dust was flying through the air. When she righted herself, red hair was askew and covered in grime. There was a smudge of ink on her cheek and her fingers were already stained. He could hear her mumbling and had to bury a smile at the fond memories her appearance elicited.

"Elrond," she gasped, attempting to right her appearance and juggle books of numbers.

He reached out and took the books, setting them on top of others on the nearby table. "I was hoping to have this straightened and ordered before you found out."

Elrond could not help the small smile that crossed his face. "Yes, a rather frazzled Erestor found me training with Glorfindel."

"Tattler," Silnar muttered, idly moving books and papers.

He sighed and touched her shoulder, gaining her attention. "It is fine if you wish to help with administering duties, but I would still like to look over some of the more important reports."

Silnar smiled brightly, transforming her oft somber face. "Of course, Elrond. You are master of Imladris."

Elrond nodded and left wondering what in Mandos he had done.

* * *

"And how are you enjoying you're new duties?" 

Silnar looked up at the handsome Glorfindel from her seat on the floor. She scowled at the mess around her that was just beginning to make sense.

"Just wonderful can you not tell?

Glorfindel laughed, kneeling to her level. "You have dirt on your nose," he murmured, brushing a finger down the appendage.

"I have dirt everywhere," Silnar retorted, trying to ignore the tingle he made when he touched her.

"Why not take a break and join me for a late lunch?" Glorfindel asked, offering a large hand.

Silnar frowned, uncertain. She was not sure if he was looking to explore friendship or something more. She was not sure if she wanted something more.

He grinned as if reading her thoughts. "It is just lunch."

Goaded by his mocking grin, Silnar accepted his hand and stood. "Lunch is fine, my lord."

Glorfindel pulled her up swiftly and she slipped into his embrace, falling against a firm chest that smelled of leather and something tangy.

"What is this 'lord' business," he murmured deeply. Their faces were close and she noticed his eyes were a light gray leaning to blue.

She hurriedly pushed out of his arms into her own space, ignoring his smirk. "Sorry, Glorfindel. Right. Let us go."

Silnar hurried past him and he followed at a leisurely pace tickled pink he had managed to fluster the icy healer.

Lunch was delicious and Silnar lay back on the blanket, replete. Fluffy white clouds chased each other across the blue sky and she felt her body relax. She had not felt so calm in many years. All thanks to the peculiar elf sitting beside her twiddling with a flute.

"Did you know this flute is Ages old?" Glorfindel asked, running long fingers up and down the stem. Silnar sat up on her elbow and gazed into his somber face.

"It is well crafted," she agreed. The flute showed its age in the scrapes and scars, but Glorfindel proved it still worked beautifully when he played a short tune.

"It was made by the best," and Silnar saw his eyes were caught in some distant memory. She wondered if the rumors were true. She wondered if he had lived two lives, and if he had, why return to this one? To serve another. It made little sense.

She wanted to ask. Her curiosity was legendary, but so was her tact and she knew instinctively that though this Captain was a merry fellow his past was closely guarded. Glorfindel turned his full attention to her and Silnar sucked in a breath. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel as if she were the center of his universe. It was a heady feeling, one she had never had before.

"So, you lived on Númenor?" Glorfindel asked, setting his flute aside.

Silnar laughed. "You go straight for the long and difficult questions."

He grinned. "I like to live dangerously."

She sat up, brushing long strands of hair behind her shoulder. "Yes," she said after a moment. "I lived in Númenor. I was there at her birth and her death."

"I never had the chance to visit," Glorfindel said, tracing a pattern on the blanket with his finger.

"It was beautiful, as beautiful as the Edain can make anything. Elendil used to say it was a masterpiece of man's craft. It used to make me sad for he never saw Númenor at her height. She was already dying when his father was born."

"But surely there were happy memories?" Glorfindel prodded.

Silnar nodded. "Of course there were. In the afternoons, the women of the court would gather in the gardens and gossip while minstrels played old lays. The nights were for feasting and dancing. I would spend mornings tutoring the children."

"I used to help train the children," Glorfindel murmured. "I trained them in war and how to quickly dispatch the enemy. I taught them to kill without hesitation and I watched something pure in them die every time."

Silnar watched him for a few moments as grief overpowered any feeling inside him and could not bear to see it. Standing suddenly she forced a laugh. "Look how maudlin we have become, my Lord. It is too beautiful a day for such despondent thoughts."

His grief passed as quickly as it came and a sunny smile broke across Glorfindel's handsome features. "Let us race to the spring," and he took off with a laugh as Silnar chased after him. She felt free as a bird as she chased the nimble Captain through the fields of elanor to the spring that trickled through the meadow they had chosen.

She finally reached him, breathless, and playfully pushed on his shoulder. "Cheater," she cried, laughing.

Glorfindel smiled down at her, brushing hair from her red face. Silnar felt her heart begin to race and shivered slightly at his soft touch. "You have turned me wild," she admonished feeling the silence of his gaze.

"I like you wild," Glorfindel said, and then broke the spell by turning away. "I used to come here with Gil-galad and Elrond when they wished to escape the pressures of leadership. We would bring wine and grow drunk on our happiness."

"He was a good King," Silnar said, taking Glorfindel's hand in her own.

"He was a good friend," Glorfindel added, pressing a kiss to her palm.

"This place is beautiful, thank you for bringing me here."

"My pleasure. I hope we can come back," he hedged, uncertain. Silnar nodded with another smile. "Keep being so charming and I would have to say yes."

"Charming is my middle name," Glorfindel grinned.

Silnar laughed again. It had been so long since she had a reason to feel happy and she forgot how much she loved to laugh. Life suddenly seemed full of possibility, full of promise.

"We should return," Glorfindel said regretfully. "I have another group to train."

Silnar nodded, but she did not want to leave. "Yes, those reports will not file themselves."

Together they packed the remainder of their lunch and folded the blanket. As they walked back, Glorfindel played his flute and Silnar skipped lightly to his beat. Elrond stood from his balcony as they parted ways near the armory unsure what he thought of this new development.


	4. Memories

_The letter had been hastily written, the scrawl hardly legible, which was uncommon for the normally studious Maglor._ She had not wanted to read it. She had almost cast it into the fire, but a gentle touch from Galadriel ceased her effort. It was enough of a pause for her curiosity to overcome her anger and she had slit the envelope to reveal the heavy ink blotted page.

"I can barely decipher it," Silnar muttered, staring hard at the words.

"Then surely his need must be great," her friend observed from where she was perched at her desk, writing Celeborn.

"I'm unclear as to how he even found me," came the caustic reply. "He only managed to destroy one of the few refuges remaining to us."

A soft snort was all Galadriel would give her and Silnar glanced back to the letter, reluctant to read it, but wondering what Maglor could possibly want of her. She had made her feelings quite clear when he and his brothers had murdered Dior Eluchíl. Realizing her friend was once more enthralled in her work, and no longer concerned with the son of Fëanor's letter Silnar took a seat in her favorite chair and began to read.

"Oh Eru," she cried a few short minutes later and the distress in her tone had Galadriel rising immediately to her feet. Golden hair shined against the glow of the flames as the stately elleth knelt before the suddenly frozen Silnar.

"Your face is pale beyond words, what has happened?"

"I cannot find the words," mumbled Silnar, weakly handing the letter over and then standing to pace. Her body was tight with new grief and pain. Damn them, and damn that Oath which seemed only to bring despair to their Cause. How many more must be slain for these jewels?

Fabric muttered as Galadriel stood, her face grave. "What shall you do?"

Wrapping her arms around her body, Silnar shook her head, red hair floating with the movement. She brushed the strands away from her face, her hands shaking. She could not seem to still and her mind warred with a rush of emotions and plans.

"They have kidnapped the two boys, Eru be thankful they have not slaughtered them as well, but oh how frightened they must be."

Silence lengthened as Silnar contemplated her next actions. Maglor had not requested her presence, but the invitation was implied. Neither of the remaining sons of Fëanor had experience in raising children. Maglor had been wed for a time, but the loss of his wife so early into their marriage had prevented him from being blessed with a child. She was certain there would be someone to look after the children in Amon Ereb, but she knew that she would trust no one but herself to care for the boys. It would be the least that she could do for these grandchildren of Dior, her friend.

Galadriel waited patiently for her friend's decision, knowing from experience it was best to not offer an opinion unless asked. The two had been acquaintances for many years, but after the death of Dior, Silnar had joined the exodus of survivors from Doriath and journeyed with them. The nomadic existence was hard, traveling from haven to haven; it would be nice to settle some place for longer then two to three years. Galadriel knew that Celeborn would never allow them to accompany Silnar to Amon Ereb, for the ruin of Doriath yet pained her husband who had sworn never to treat with the sons of Fëanor again. In fact, should they meet, Galadriel feared yet another Kinslaying.

"I do not know what to do," Silnar finally said, her eyes ravaged with grief. "I feel I must go to Amon Ereb, but I cannot abandon you."

Cutting her off with a wave of her hand, Galadriel shook her head. "Worry not for me, friend. Celeborn will return soon and I believe we may be leaving yet again. Go to them, the children will need you."

Silnar gave a soft sigh and embraced her companion. "I thank you for your years of friendship."

"Why these words, dear one?" Galadriel asked with a soft laugh. "We will not be separated forever and if you do not write to me I shall be very wroth!"

"I worry about Celeborn's reaction," Silnar admitted, moving away from the fire and staring out the window. The snow lay in deep drifts against the home and she shivered at the thought of traveling in the bitter cold. Typically the changing seasons was little bother to the Elves, but Silnar had never enjoyed winter, preferring the warmth of spring and summer.

Snorting delicately, Galadriel waved a hand in dismissal. "I shall deal with Celeborn, besides, whether or not he approves will not have any bearing on our friendship."

"Then I shall go to Amon Ereb," she decided._ "And Eru help them when I get there."_

Silnar woke with a start, staring around the darkened room in confusion. Rubbing her eyes, she slowly returned to the present, realizing she was in her bedroom in Imladris and far from the snowy plains of her old home. Being in such close proximity to Elrond was bringing back memories long suppressed. Those early days after learning of the third Kinslaying were fraught with anger and grief and she little liked to remember them. Unlike many of her kindred, she had no control over the pathways of her dreams and they came randomly as she slept. It was part of the reason she spent little time in bed.

Abandoning her bed, she slipped on a silken wrap and tied it closed. She had opened the doors of her room to let in the breezes of the garden and the scents of the flowers helped sooth her nerves. A letter lay on her desk and after lighting several candles she sat and stared down at it. This more than anything had probably prompted her dream for it had been some time since she had heard from Galadriel. They were currently residing in Lothlórien, guests of her ruler, Amroth. The daughter of Finarfin wrote of the beauty of the golden woods and the quaint custom of living in the trees. Celeborn had said it was strategically sound, ever the warrior even in times of near peace. Behind the elegant words, Silnar sensed that Galadriel yearned for stability. They had found it for some time in Eregion, but that had long been destroyed forcing once more their nomadic existence.

Setting the letter aside, Silnar found fresh paper and began to write her reply, recounting her time in Imladris and her new appointment as an ambassador and administrator. Galadriel would find it amusing that she was once more embroiling herself in the affairs of her host. She also made sure to ask her friend's opinion of Glorfindel. Silnar was sure it would raise numerous curious questions, but she could trust Galadriel to be circumspect.

Finishing the letter, she sanded it and then set it to the side to dry. Glorfindel seemed to be ever in her thoughts these days. He was ever in her way as well, always finding reasons to interrupt her work in the rooms she had declared her offices. After only a day or two, she had decided it would be impossible to work with Erestor hovering all the time and had commandeered several empty rooms. Glorfindel had assisted in moving all of the crates and records while Erestor happily used the space for some of the manuscripts and books that Elrond had written long ago.

Life was much more peaceful now and she was making headway into the vast chronicles and records of Imladris. She could not fault anyone for the poor upkeep. Imladris had been founded first as a refuge and fort against Sauron in those bitter days of war. Now, in this time of peace, there was need for better organization. She was loath to admit that Glorfindel had been correct, but her duties had given her life new vitality. With her mind occupied by her work, she had forgotten the plans that they had concocted to find Elrond a wife, but thinking of Galadriel had brought them back. She supposed she should be more honest…they were more her plans then Glorfindel's, but Silnar had no doubt that the Elf-Lord would assist her.

Her cheeks warmed and she pressed her hands against them futilely, grateful no one could see the blush. It seemed to happen more often these days and was commonly caused by that dratted Elf. He was always bothering her, interrupting her work, and generally being a nuisance. Sighing, Silnar faced the truth that she was really not irritated. He made her laugh, which was something she had sorely missed without even knowing. He was kind, ever thoughtful of her still weak condition without making her seem like an invalid. Glorfindel was insinuating his way into her life whether she willed it or no. She was more frightened of the fact that it did not bother her as much as it should.

She had always been alone. Her memories began with her wandering on the plains of Lothlann and her rescue by the sons of Fëanor. She had spent the bulk of her time with their people, meeting many of the fabled heroes through brief alliances and wars. Much of what she knew was second hand from Maedhros, poisoned by his anger and the Oath. It was not until she left them for Galadriel and Celeborn that her perceptions were slowly changed.

Despite the many Ages she had spent among her people, Silnar had never felt the need for companionship. She was certain she could have pursued a relationship with Maedhros at any time, but she had never felt the need to do so and they had remained merely friends. There were many others of her acquaintance who would not have been averse, but Silnar had felt no urge for romance and had often wondered if she were broken in some way. It was not until she had spent considerable time with Galadriel and Celeborn that she began to wish for what they had. Raising the twins had helped assuage the need, but after the boys left it returned in force. By then, events were quickly rushing to a final confrontation and it would have been futile to pursue any relationship. The feelings never left, but only seemed to grow, chafing under the restrictions of war and uncertainty.

And then they had won. The remaining sons of Fëanor perished or disappeared and she had been reunited with the twins. Bereft and alone, Silnar often wondered in retrospect if her feelings for Elros were more a need for stability and something to call hers then actual love. After his choice to remain mortal, Silnar had yet clung to him and his family and it was now no surprise to her that Elrond had been disgusted by her actions. At the time, however, she would not listen to reason and there was little regret, even now, for her decision to follow Elros to Númenor. Her memories of Númenor were more beautiful then bitter, and she had finally found a family though they had ever faded. Those centuries of consistency were something she would never trade, even with the outcome. Nearly every child remained dear to her heart and she wondered how Valandil was and resolved to write him soon. Busy with ruling his kingdom, their communication was sparse. Perhaps she would travel to visit him.

By now the sun was peeking over the horizon and beginning to cast its weak light into the room. Blowing out all of the candles but one, Silnar folded her letter and sealed it in an envelope with her crest, a rising sun. Gathering the skirts of her wrap in one hand so she would not trip, she left through the open window door and headed for the rookery. Selecting the falcon trained to fly to Lothlórien, she sent her letter on its way. Watching it wing its way south, she waited until it was but a speck before turning to leave.

Glorfindel was leaning against the rookery a sleepy smile indicating he had not been awake long. His hair was not braided and fell in golden waves past his shoulders. He was wearing a loose shirt and pants with no ornament. It was unfair, Silnar decided, that he could still look so handsome in such plain clothes. Feeling naked despite her wrap, she resisted the urge to cross her arms, knowing he would smirk. In many ways, he reminded her of what Maedhros would have been should the Oath not have destroyed his life. Both Elves were extremely masculine, powerful, and sure of their place in their world. Glorfindel ever smiled though, where Maedhros always frowned. Sometimes, though, Silnar sensed the easygoing manner was just one of his many masks, for the stories she heard of his prowess in battle little matched the good humor that she always saw.

"You are awake early this morning," Silnar commented, sliding past him for the path outside.

Not surprisingly, Glorfindel followed, having no issue with invading her personal space as they walked. He was always doing that, brushing up against her or reaching out to play with the strands of her hair. He had said the color fascinated him and Silnar refused to admit that the compliment pleased her or that she felt the same about his own hair.

"I could not sleep," he answered. "I had given up when I saw you heading for the rookery. What are you doing awake?"

"I was writing a letter to Galadriel. You know I sleep but little."

He gave a noncommittal sound of reply and they continued in a comfortable silence. Birds twittered as they greeted the dawn, some singing loudly for rain while others whistled quiet greetings. She liked this too, that even though Glorfindel loved to move, to talk, he also enjoyed the quiet that sometimes seeped between them. He never forced conversation and she was grateful for that.

"What is your agenda for the day?" Silnar was slightly surprised she had asked the question as she rarely instigated any of their converses. Glorfindel's lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile and Silnar rolled her eyes.

"I will be busy today, actually. Elrond has requested I take a small group and patrol the borders of the woods. There have been reports from some of the surrounding villages of bandits. We wish to be certain that is all it is or if it is Orc."

The word was chilling no matter its use. The brutality their twisted cousins were capable of committing always made her cringe deep inside. She had faced them in battle many times and her worry seemed to show for Glorfindel took her hand in his and laced their fingers.

"I am sure that it is nothing, but I would rather be certain then sorry when a band of Orc decide to take up residence."

Silnar snorted and removed her hand. "Who said that I was worried?"

His answering grin made her flush and she shook her hair to hide the evidence. Her lack of control over her emotions in regards to him made her so angry sometimes. She did not understand why he had taken an interest in her when she had spent centuries cultivating her icy exterior. At first she had thought it was the challenge of breaching her defenses, but lately she had begun to wonder if his intentions were truly pure after all. She hoped they were because she was afraid that she was in true danger of losing her heart and Silnar was certain it would not be able to bear being broken again.

"Galadriel longs for a home," she said, distracting him from pursuing the other thread of their conversation. Her attempt was obvious, but he graciously capitulated.

"My very distant cousin has long wished for a kingdom to call her own," Glorfindel said, and Silnar detected a faint trace of cynicism. She often forgot that Glorfindel had been born in Valinor and had grown up with Galadriel, her siblings, and cousins. There was Ages of history between them that she could hardly hope to unravel so she remained silent. "It was for this desire she journeyed here. She took no part in the Kinslaying, thank Eru, but her reasons were not altruistic. Galadriel had no wish to recover the Silmarils, which perhaps was her saving grace. No, she wished to rule, to be Queen. She always had lofty thoughts."

Silnar had never heard the normally friendly Elf speak critically of anyone, even Erestor who Glorfindel delighted in playfully tormenting. It was odd and she was unsure of how to respond so she again said nothing.

A moment later he grimaced and apologized. "Forgive me my harsh words, Silnar. I forget that Galadriel is your friend. I care for my cousin, but as children we were often in contention and I sometimes let that color my current feelings. She is ambitious, but as a granddaughter of Finwë that is to be expected."

"Maedhros said her father was a pacifist."

"He was," Glorfindel conceded. "But Finwë's blood runs hot in many of his descendants and Finarfin was ever like his mother Indis. He also married a Telerin and they fueled his pacifism. My own father used to say all of the hot blood that he bore was passed to his children instead. It broke his heart when they all left."

Silnar frowned. "Galadriel so rarely speaks of her father that I had no idea."

"It pains her to do so," he explained. "They were close when she was young and I believe, to this day, she refuses to answer to her father-name. Their parting was bitter indeed."

"What happened to your father?"

Silence descended and Silnar regretted the extremely personal question. He was so often playful and happy that she often forgot he had led a long life previous to his death and that it was probably fraught with pain and grief as with so many of their people. He spoke before she could apologize, though, and she listened intently.

"He chose to leave with Fingolfin and I followed. My mother refused to accompany us and I barely cast a thought to her own pain so eager was I to prove myself to him. My father was everything to me. He drowned on the Helcaraxë, diving in after Elenwë. I was so blind with grief I barely remember that it took five to restrain me from jumping in as well."

"Elenwë was Turgon's wife?" Silnar clarified, knowing that there was some bond of friendship between the two Elves that had prompted Glorfindel, an Elf-Lord in his own right, to dedicate his life to the descendents of the one time ruler of Gondolin.

"Yes. My father adored her and Turgon. It was the second of many losses for Fingolfin. My father and he were close friends. We almost lost Turgon that day. If he had not been holding Idril I fear he would have dove in after Elenwë. Should I have lost both my father and best friend we would not be having this conversation."

"I wish that I could remember my father," Silnar finally said after several minutes of silence. "Or my mother. It is difficult to have no memories of them."

Glorfindel took her hand and this time she let him as they returned to the house.

* * *

"Absolutely not."

Elrond glared in irritation at the unusually reserved face of his friend and Captain. "Must I spend the rest of my life reminding you that I am Lord of Imladris and you cannot tell me what to do?"

Glorfindel suddenly smirked, the expression much more familiar for Elrond. "And must I continue to remind you that Gil-galad himself sent me here to keep an eye on you?"

"That was nearly a thousand years ago!" Elrond burst out. "I should think I am old enough to make my own decisions!"

"You are," Glorfindel said easily. "But that doesn't prevent them from being idiotic. You are not coming with us. You are Lord of Imladris and your place is here with your people. My place is protecting this place and if I keep going I am going to confuse myself so it is final."

Exasperated, Elrond ran a hand through his already mussed hair and then glared futilely at the floor. Glorfindel was right, even if Elrond was reluctant to admit it.

"This would not perhaps be about Silnar, would it?"

"What?" Elrond asked, truly confused. "Why would this concern her?"

"Oh, I don't know, perhaps the fact that you two can barely speak civilly even though she is assisting you in the duties of Imladris. I am afraid if I leave you both alone I will return to see the house burned to the ground from the tension."

Scowling the Lord of Imladris made a cutting motion with his hand. "We are not uncivil and I believe I have already thanked you for pushing her on me."

Glorfindel laughed. "You two are so civil it borders on the uncivil! I wish you both would hash out whatever trivial circumstance is between you so we can all move on with life."

Accustomed to his friend's use of twisted logic to win arguments, Elrond let it go and returned the conversation to the patrol. "If the problems are being caused by bandits then do nothing. The humans should handle their own vagrants, but if it is Orc we will need to run them off."

"Or something like that," Glorfindel said with a slightly malicious grin that reminded Elrond his cheerful demeanor masked a deadly warrior with little to no qualms about slaughtering their enemies. The healer in him winced at the casual disregard for life, but the warrior understood the kill or be killed attitude that kept their people safe.

"Yes, well, do try and be careful," Elrond sighed and the two friends shared a smile. It was difficult to inflect thousands of years of friendship into words and they had descended into a banter that merely masked their true emotions. To strangers it was an extremely odd relationship, but it suited them and that was all that truly mattered.

"Of course, now, get you gone. I'm sure there's something you can better occupy your time with other then bothering me."

Glorfindel watched his friend laugh, which he had done so rarely lately, and then return to the house. He had been thinking much more on Silnar's suggestion that Elrond find a wife and the more he spent on the idea, the more sense it made. Of course, it would be a might difficult to accomplish if the two continued to be at odds, but Glorfindel had every confidence he would reconcile them. He was not an Elda who gave up easily after all.

After finishing his packing, Glorfindel sought Silnar. She was in her office, poring over old manuscripts and sorting through centuries old census logs.

"I will never understand how that ancient information could ever interest you."

She looked up with a smile as he sat across from her, propping his feet on her desk. "I do not suppose you ever will, Glorfindel. What brings you here? Should you not be preparing for your foray?"

"We leave shortly, but I had wanted to see your beautiful face before I depart."

"You will be careful, of course," Silnar murmured for want of something to say at his bold admission for seeking her company.

"I am always careful." He said it casually as if this war party was a normal occurrence and Silnar tried to still the rapid beating of her heart. This was his duty, and he was excellent at it, but she could not help the worry that fluttered inside.

He laughed at her strangled expression and set his feet down so he could reach across the desk to grasp one of her braids. Tugging on it playfully he said, "Are you worried, fair lady? Do not be concerned for me. I always take several other competent warriors with me."

Silnar batted his hand away, but could not help the smile that trickled forth. "Who said I was worried? That would imply I care."

Glorfindel affected a hurt expression, but the amusement in his eyes ruined the look. "I stopped by to bid you a brief farewell. I know you will dearly miss me these next several weeks, but I promise to return as soon as I may."

"Miss you? Grateful for the peace is more likely."

A flashing grin was his only response. "In my absence, I do not dare hope that you may try to smooth over your relationship with Elrond?"

The sudden serious turn to their conversation gave her pause. "You are truly aggravating about this, Glorfindel. Elrond and I are fine. I gave in to your demands to assist him please do not ask any more of me."

"If neither one of you will speak socially how are you going to find him a wife?" Glorfindel asked and was delighted when she blushed.

"I regret every saying that to you," she cried behind the hands covering her face. She released her face, the delightful stain of color gone and shook her head. "Finding Elrond a wife is the least of my concerns at the moment. I received a letter from the King of Greenwood the Great wanting to have a Council here at Imladris. He wishes for the King of Lothlórien to be in attendance so they can discuss the boundaries of their realm. I have absolutely no desire to meet with that haughty Silvan especially as there is no love lost between him and Amroth. I do not even know why the meeting must be here as it is of no concern to Imladris what those Wood-Elves do."

"Careful Silnar, your prejudices are showing," Glorfindel teased. "Elrond is famous for his hospitality and mediation. As you are now his chief councilor the joy of arranging these delightful meetings falls to you."

"Yes, well," she grumbled. "Thranduil's disdain for all things Noldor drives me mad when I am in a cheerful mood. How well are you acquainted with Lord Amroth?"

"Not very," Glorfindel admitted. "He and his people have always kept to themselves. I know his father perished in the Dagorlad and he has since assumed lordship over the Silvan of Lothlórien."

"That helps but little. I will have to write to Galadriel and ask her to journey ahead of him. Mayhap she will be of some assistance."

"Galadriel? She is in Lórien?"

"For some time, yes. Why?"

Glorfindel smiled benignly. "No reason, tell me, how fares her daughter?"

"Celebrían? I have no idea, why…oh no, please, no Glorfindel that is a terrible idea!"

"Why?" He demanded. "Both have royal connections, they are somewhat of the same age, they are acquainted though it has been some time and it was during a war-"

"Please, Glorfindel, cease," Silnar said weakly, interrupting his excited babble. "You forget who her father is and while Celeborn has mellowed over the years I cannot see how he would consent to his daughter wedding a Noldor."

Glorfindel snorted. "He would be a hypocrite if he did not. He married a Noldor!"

"Do not ask me to make sense of his logic. He has not spoken to me for years merely because I returned to Maedhros and Maglor. I highly doubt that he will consent to the union of Elrond, a one time ward of Maglor to his precious daughter. Hmph, and you think I'm prejudiced."

Shrugging, Glorfindel stood and stretched. "I have every confidence that you will think of something. I am sure Galadriel will delight in meddling as she is so very good at it."

Her narrowing eyes caused the Balrog slayer to sketch a hasty bow and retreat. There were times she wanted nothing better then to strangle that irreverent Elf! She could not help the smile that slipped onto her features as she thought of him, though, or the wave of worry at his imminent departure.

* * *

"Tonight we will be singing Glorfindel and the Balrog."

Silnar looked up from contemplating her wine cup into the gray eyes of a dark haired elleth. She was tiny even by their peoples' standards, as if she had decided to never leave adolescence. The mischievous sparkle in her eyes merely enhanced the image.

"We only ever sing it when he is away from Imladris, which is not often enough for me as I dearly love the song. Unfortunately, our Balrog slayer does not."

"I wonder why," Silnar mused. A song seemed to be something the gregarious Elf would enjoy. She added this new tidbit to the wealth of information she was acquiring in regards to Lord Glorfindel.

"You are new to the Hall, yes? I have not seen you before."

Nodding, Silnar gave her curious companion a wry smile. "The Master of this House and I tend to avoid each other when it comes to social diversions. As he is often here, I am not."

A light, tinkling laugh met her explanation and the elleth sat next to her. "Rumors abound as to your rather prickly relationship with Lord Elrond, oh but please, do not clarify them. I am sure to find the mystery to be ever so much more delicious then the truth."

"What is your name, if I may be so pertinent?" Silnar asked, amused by the elleth's vivacious personality.

"My father named me Lalaith for he swears I was born laughing. My mother never bothered to name me as the other is so apt."

"A beautiful name," Silnar countered. "Your father was wise to name you so in such dark times."

Lalaith laughed, gently touching Silnar's arm. "If you wish to be philosophical about it, I suppose. You realize of course that as soon as Lindir espies you he will politely demand a song?"

"So I have been informed," Silnar said dryly. "All I know are lullabies so you will all have to be satisfied with that."

"Now that I find difficult to believe!" Lalaith said cheerfully. "All the years you spent teaching children I'm sure you know plenty of Lays."

"None that I wish to sing," she clarified.

The ringing of a bell garnered the Hall's attention and Lindir, head of the minstrels, greeted the Elves. "A blessed evening to you all, my friends. Tonight we will start with the Lay of Glorfindel and the Balrog. May the sweet strains of his song reach him even though he and his company are far from here."

Laughter met his introduction and then silence fell. Lalaith listened in rapt attention as the music began. Lindir's voice, warm and mellow, seemed to caress each word of the ancient song. All life stilled in lieu of the music and even as the last notes faded away, the Elves remained still. None in the room were survivors of the destruction of Gondolin, but the tales had long been told of the valor of their warriors even to their last bitter stand before the Tower of the King. It was just one of many Lays in regards to that period of time, but all in the room were intimates of Glorfindel so it held special meaning. Silnar had never heard the song and commented to Lalaith how very beautiful it was.

"Oh yes," Lalaith said softly, her eyes glowing. "And now prepare yourself Silnar, for here is Lindir."

The minstrel approached with a determined face that was proof enough she would not escape unscathed. Not even protests of a less then pleasant voice could sway him.

So now she was sat before a delicately wrought harp, the only instrument she was halfway decent with, preparing to sing a lullaby not heard for thousands of years.

"I beg your pardon now," Silnar said with a grimace. "Music has never been my passion so you must be content with a lullaby. It has been some time since I have sung this so forgive me if I am out of practice."

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Silnar's delicate fingers began to pluck the familiar chords growing more confidant as the old memories returned.

* * *

Elrond was in his study, the windows opened to allow the breezes to filter through the room, bringing with it the faint sounds of the Hall. They had begun the evening with Glorfindel's song, much to his amusement, and he had paused in his work to enjoy it. When he had at long last met his father, Eärendil had played the song for his twins. It was not the first time he had heard the popular Lay, but experiencing it with the Elf who had witnessed the battle made the events seem more real. Normally he would have joined them, he did most nights, but he had noticed Silnar tended to avoid the Hall and he wondered if it was due to his presence. At supper he had made it clear he would be absent from the Hall and his suspicions were confirmed when he heard her voice. His study was far enough away he recognized her intonations, but the words were unclear. The music that followed her introduction was not and the familiar tune brought forth hazy memories he had long suppressed…

_The room was too warm and he had been crying for hours._ These strange Eldar had brought him here and he could not find his mother. Elros had been taken to a different room and he could no longer hear his twin's cries. The dark haired Elf had played on his harp for awhile, which had temporarily fascinated the six year old, but the gruff Elf with the missing hand had made him leave.

He was so very tired, but he was afraid to sleep. The last time he had done so to his mother's voice and woke in the arms of a stranger who had struck him when he struggled. Thinking of the blow made his head ache and the tears come harder then ever. He wanted to stop crying, truly he did, but he could not seem to control the tears. His throat was sore and he wanted a drink and to go to the bathroom, but no one was coming to help him.

The door to his room flew open with such force it cracked as it slammed into the wall. The one handed Elda fell into the room landing hard on his back and cracking his head against the floor. Elrond was so shocked by the sudden intrusion he stopped crying and stared wide eyed at the elleth who was framed in the doorway. Behind her the one who had played the harp was hovering anxiously. Face grim as she entered, the fire in the room threw her own flamed hair into relief and he wondered if she was related to the Elf with one hand. Her eyes darted around the room and when they settled on him they softened immediately. Moving slowly she knelt before him, her hands on her lap where he could see them.

Her eyes were a deep blue and reminded him of the skies of his home on a cloudless day. Up close he saw the red hair was darker then the scary one and she hardly bore a resemblance. This made him feel much better and even though he sniffled he felt no need to cry again.

"Hello Elrond, my name is Silnar Vanwamíne and I am a friend of your family. May I sit next to you?"

Elrond nodded and she sat next to him on the bed leaving plenty of space between them.

"Where's Mama?" He whispered, trying not to whine. Silnar's eyes saddened and he knew he was not going to like her answer.

"Your Mama had to make a long journey and she is doing very important work. Her duty is so important she could not bring you and your brother, but I promise I will take wonderful care of you. Someday you will see her again."

"'S Daddy helpin' her?"

A small smile warmed her grave features and she nodded. "Yes, dear one, he is."

"I gots to go to the bafroom," Elrond whispered, extremely embarrassed.

Silnar stood and offered her hand. He stared at if for a moment and then slowly took it. Very seriously she showed him to the bathroom and waited patiently outside. When he was finished she led him back to his room. The other Elves were long gone and the room was significantly cooler. He noticed the fire was banked and several candles had been lit. A tray of food and a glass of milk was waiting for him at a small table. Silnar helped him into a chair and watched him eat and drink.

He was almost finished when she started quite violently and grasped his head gently. He stiffened, but then relaxed when he was sure she was not going to strike him.

"Who struck you?" She demanded and Elrond was grateful the anger was not directed at him. He was so very tempted to lie, but decided against it. The lady had been so kind he did not want to dishonor her, even if it would be funny to get the one handed Elf in trouble.

"I don't know," he finally said. "I couldn't see."

"Stay here," Silnar said grimly and left. Her hands had brushed the bruise while she inspected it and the gentle touch had eased some of the pain. He finished his meal and a few minutes later she had returned with another elleth. Taking a jar from the stranger Elrond remained still as she smoothed the cream over his bruise. It burned his nostrils when he smelled it and Silnar laughed when his nose wrinkled.

"The herbs in this are very strong, but it will make you feel so much better," Silnar explained as she wrapped cloth around his head. "There, now you look like a warrior come home from battle."

He looked into the mirror she held and allowed a small smile for her benefit. A yawn ruined the effect and she set everything on the empty tray which the other Elf took away, shutting the door as she left.

"Would you like to try and sleep?"

He was exhausted but worry over his twin stopped him from moving. "Elros?"

"He is sleeping in the next room. I promise to check on him."

"You take care of bof of us?"

"Yes, dear one, I will take care of both of you."

Elrond allowed her to tuck him into bed. Instead of leaving, as he had feared, she knelt on the floor and softly stroked his hair. While she stroked she sang softly a lullaby he had never heard before. _Her voice was not nearly as beautiful as his mother's, but it was soothing and before long he had drifted away._

The memory faded as the lullaby did and Elrond was startled to see his hands clenched tightly. Taking a deep breath he relaxed reminding himself he was a long way from that frightened Elfling. It had been many years since had last heard that song. She had called it his special lullaby and, though she had sung it for both of them, it was only because he and Elros shared a room. Whenever he was feeling lonely or missed his mother she would gather him up, kiss his brow, and sing his song. She had always called it his song and he was surprised at the anger he felt that she would choose to sing it in the Hall. Had she sang it for Elros' descendents as well? How could something so trivial cause so much pain? He was an adult and Silnar was not his mother. He owed her nothing. All that she had done for him had been ripped away by her pathetic exodus to Númenor. He had tried once to see her, but had been rebuffed by servants and the Lady of the House. He had never tried again.

Perhaps Glorfindel was right and he should speak with her. Sighing at the futility of it all, more than slightly irritated she had disrupted his otherwise orderly life Elrond stood, but made no move for the door. There was no need as the object of his thoughts was standing there as if he had silently summoned her.

"Your windows are open," she said and the obvious observation revealed how nervous she was.

"Yes, they are," he said simply, knowing he was making this difficult and not caring.

"Then you must have heard." Her hands were clenching her skirts and she was very pale. It was a far different scene from the one of his childhood when she had been vibrant and so alive with energy. He had later learned it was a punch that had sent Maedhros through his door, completely knocking the Elf senseless.

"I did although the meaning for it escapes me as I was not even there."

"I suppose I had half hoped you would be listening. I did not realize the amount of grief it would elicit. It was supposed to be cathartic, instead I feel even more lost then before."

Elrond stared at her and was silent. A breeze ruffled his braids and music from the Hall indicated the celebration had continued despite both their absences. The entire group was singing the hymn to Elbereth, which would be repeated throughout the night. The normally soothing words did little to relieve the tension in the study. Eventually, Silnar lowered her eyes to the floor and sighed.

"I do not know what you wish of me, Elrond. I cannot apologize to you for my decisions…they were mine and I would not change them."

"Then we have nothing left to say," he replied stiffly and returned to his desk, effectively dismissing her. She lingered for a moment longer, but then left and even though every fiber in his being wished to call her back, the years of hurt stretching between them choked the words and he let her disappear into the hall.


	5. Confrontation

When Glorfindel returned it was to find the House of Elrond on its very ear.

The inestimable Túrcala was overseeing a group of Elves washing linens. Her dark hair was piled in a messy bun and she was calling out orders while sweeping the entryway. Glorfindel bowed roguishly to the giggling Elves and then pressed a loud kiss to Túrcala's cheek.

"Away with you rogue," she mock scolded, but her eyes twinkled with joy at seeing him returned unharmed. "You're distracting my workers."

She aimed this comment to the washers who all giggled again, but returned to their work. Glorfindel turned his full attention on the unsung leader of Elrond's home. There was little that went unnoticed by her and he often used her as a source of information. Now she stopped her sweeping and leaned on the broom, her lips quirked in a little half smile.

"The walls are still standing," Glorfindel observed, a cheerful smile doing little to mask the concern in his eyes.

"Barely," Túrcala said dryly. "Your Lady Silnar has resumed living out of her offices and the Lord Elrond has been as surly as a bear."

"Do you know why they fought?" He asked, ignoring the lack of subtlety at her reference to Silnar.

Túrcala began to sweep again. "Rumors abound, but I do believe it had to do with a song that the Lady Silnar sang in the Hall of Fire one evening. The Lord Elrond was not there, but I suppose he heard of it. I will be just as pleased when it all settles again. All anyone can whisper about is the mystery of their relationship and I've too much to do what with the Lady Galadriel arriving soon and the Lords of Lothlórien and Greenwood following."

"I will see to it that they settle things," Glorfindel assured her. "I am going to visit with Elrond right now."

She snorted indelicately and then rubbed the back of her hand across her brow. "Good luck with that my lord. You will need it."

Glorfindel bowed once more with flourish and then made his way to Elrond's study. It was empty and after trying several different places he finally found the Half-Elf ensconced in his Healing room. He was checking his stores and marking paperwork. Although he seemed engrossed, Elrond sensed Glorfindel the moment the Elf entered and he looked up with a relieved smile.

"I am glad to see you returned safely. Have you come to report?"

"Among other things," his friend returned with a slightly sour twist to his lips. "That will do to begin our conversation."

Elrond looked at him suspiciously, but asked, "Well, were they orcs or not?"

"It was a small band of orcs. They have been eradicated."

The Lord of Imladris gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you my friend, your diligence once more keeps us safe."

"Your diligence has done little but enflame relations between you and Silnar," Glorfindel said bluntly, taking a seat on the stool across from his friend. "I have just heard the latest encounter has fueled the gossipmongers nearly the entire time I have been away."

Elrond looked at him in exasperation and set aside his pen and paper. "I would give half of Imladris to learn just where you get your information."

"You most certainly would not," Glorfindel returned with a touch of his old humor. He sobered a moment later though and looked gravely at Elrond. "What has happened? I merely suggested you smooth everything over not begin the next Last Battle."

A heavy sigh was released from Elrond's lungs. "There is too much water under our bridge, Glorfindel. I realize you are an irreparable optimist, but there are some relationships that cannot be mended."

"I refuse to believe it," he argued, settling his hands firmly on the counter and pressing his face close to Elrond's. "She practically raised you, Elrond; you owe her more than that."

Glorfindel realized he had gone too far by the sudden fury in his friend's eyes. "This discussion is finished."

Knowing he had pushed too much forced Glorfindel to apologize. "Forgive me, friend. I am sure you have your reasons. I will speak with you later this evening."

Elrond watched him depart; part of him wanting to call his friend back and explain to him sheer pain he had dealt with at being abandoned, not once, but twice by those he called family. The words remained locked inside, however, as they had been for much of his lifetime and would, if he had anything to do with it, stay there. Not wanting to remain in the healing room, he left and returned to his office to bury himself in paperwork. It was his only escape whenever the memories became too much.

* * *

For days Silnar felt hollow inside. She drifted through the hours like a wraith, consumed with a myriad of emotions she had long suppressed. Anger, fear, grief, but mostly guilt…guilt at the way she had handled her relationship with Elrond and the intervening years that had separated them. Maybe Glorfindel was right at how foolish they all were allowing the past to create this chasm between them. It had seemed so insurmountable, but maybe that was her fear preventing her from finally reconciling. It should be so easy and yet she never seemed to find the words.

Eventually she found her way to the House of Healing. Inside the room was silent; the solitude a balm as it had been so many centuries ago. Silnar ran her hands along the cool stone of a counter and then over the neat row of jars filled with pastes and creams. Each one was meticulously labeled in the neat handwriting that she had taught him. He had been a patient, diligent student, which was why she had chosen to school him in the arts of healing. Elros had been too impatient and so…active as a child that Maglor had eventually taken him into hand with the training of a sword. While Elrond had participated as well, most his time was spent with her in the rooms of Healing.

She moved on from the counter and straightened the coverlet of one of the empty beds. He had been such an apt student and so very eager to learn. His intelligence had astounded her and his natural gift amazing. She used to tell him there would come a day when he would surpass her own knowledge. He had never believed her, and it had been such a delight the day he had. She had never been more proud.

And then they had sent them away. It had been Maedhros' idea…a way to repair relationships with the other Elves. She had watched them ride away with their escort to the home of Círdan and their King, Gil-galad, heart breaking into pieces. The twins had thought it a grand adventure, not realizing that it was to be permanent and that they would never see their foster family alive and together again. Only she remained now of that strange parental unit they had made.

Her work was piling up. There were urgent matters needing her attention and yet, she could not force her mind to concentrate. She had come here, hoping to find some peace, some form of solace, but all she had were bittersweet memories. In retrospect, it all seemed like one lovely grand failure. In front of an old oak table clearly meant for work, Silnar observed the countless stains that had seeped into the wood. Daintily stroking the implements used to make the salves and pastes Elrond used in his treatments, she picked up a mortar and pestle. She recognized them as the very ones she had used to instruct her eager pupil. They were old, worn, and clearly used. It made her smile softly to see he had kept them. Perhaps there was hope for them after all.

Almost whimsically, Silnar gathered together various materials stored in cabinets and on counters, setting them up on the table. During the war she'd had assistants to mix her salves so it had been some time since she had needed or wanted to indulge in the messy work. Like an old story, the movements flowed and she lost herself to the simple, scrupulous procedure. _Time stood still and silently her mouth formed old words…_

"Gently now, grind the herbs slowly but firmly to allow for a thorough blend."

Elrond's child hands seemed small as they gripped the pestle. Silnar was holding the mortar steady to allow for ease of mixing. His dark hair was pulled back away from his face and his lower lip puckered out in concentration. He glanced up quickly and she smiled in approval. "Excellent, now, we shall transfer the crushed herbs into this jar. Careful…"

Very seriously Elrond scraped the herbs into the jar and then shook it slightly to disperse them as evenly as possible. "Is that right?"

"Of course, it is absolutely correct. Next we fill the jar with oil." She handed him the vial and watched in approval as he carefully poured it. "Perfect. Now, what is our next step?"

He nibbled his lip for a moment and then his eyes lit up. "We have to heat the mixture, right?"

"Yes, we will heat the jar for approximately 3 hours."

Elrond sighed. "I guess we have to watch it, right?"

Silnar laughed softly. "Yes, my little one, part of being a healer is preparing the tools of your trade. At times the preparation is long and tedious, but necessary."

"I can do it," he said stoutly. "I want to do it!"

The door to the Healing room opened and the dark head of Elros peeked around the frame. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," Silnar said, and opened her arms to receive his fierce hug. He smelled of dirt and sunshine and little boy. "Now, what brings you here?"

"It's time for lessons," he said cheerfully and broke her embrace to take Elrond's hand. "Maglor is waiting and he's getting impatient."

Elrond looked from his brother to the jar of herbs and oil and then to Silnar's warm, smiling face. "I can't today. I have to make my salve."

Lips pouting at being denied, Elros turned to Silnar. "Oh please, Silnar, please say Elrond can come take his lesson! Maglor said it's very important we learn to defend our homes against the evil one and how can we learn if we have to stay here cooped up in a room…"

"Cease, please, cease your babbling," she said her eyes dancing with laughter. "Elrond may be excused for his lesson."

Yelping with glee, Elros yanked his brother behind him as he rushed for the door. Elrond glanced back briefly, but then turned his full attention on Elros and the eagerness with which his brother chattered about the day's upcoming lesson. Silnar walked to the door and watched them run down the hall until they turned the corner and disappeared. _Hugging herself tightly she returned to the heating mixture sadly thinking how very quickly elflings grew…_

"You are not surprised I kept it."

Silnar looked up from her work to see Elrond's dark gray eyes watching her carefully. As an elfling, his emotions had been spread across his face for the world to see…as an adult he was a closed book and immutable as stone. "You have never been one to waste anything."

She returned her attention to her work, but sensed him moving closer. His clothes whispered with his steps and then he was next to her, observing the slight tremble of her usually steady hands. "You taught me that."

"I seem to have taught you much over the years…including the bitterness of betrayal."

Elrond's hands clenched briefly and then he relaxed. "Yes, well, I suppose it is a lesson we all must learn."

Silnar laughed bitterly and set aside her nearly completed salve. "That lesson should not have to come from parents…it should never come from parents."

"Then I have been doubly betrayed," Elrond murmured. "First by my real parents and then by those who adopted me."

"Is that what you believe? That your mother abandoned you? That I abandoned you?"

He shrugged the movement incongruous with his usual elegant form. "She chose a jewel over her sons. Over me. She promised that she would always take care of us. That she would always be there. You said the same. I used to sit at my window for hours. It faced the courtyard so I could see visitors arriving before anyone else. I would wait for you, but you never came. No one could tell me where you were or why you did not visit. Why did you not write? Were we that much of a burden?"

Shock robbed her temporarily of speech and she sat with a soft thump on the stool behind her. It seemed his wounds ran deeper then she had ever imagined. All this time she had thought it merely because of Elros. How could she have been so stupid? "Y-you were never a burden, Elrond! I loved every moment I spent with you and Elros. Maglor told me it would make things difficult if I tried to keep in contact, and that it would confuse you. He said you were still too young to understand political motivations."

"That is…odd," Elrond finally said after several minutes of thick silence. "As Maglor wrote us constantly. We each received a letter a week, sometimes two."

Betrayal sliced her heart to ribbons and her face paled to near white. She had known that Maglor was jealous of her relationship with the boys, but she had never thought he would go so far. It seemed the Oath had poisoned him after all, just not in the way any had suspected. "For that I have no answer."

"I see. Very well then." He turned to go, but Silnar's voice forced him to pause.

"Why did you greet me so happily when we were reunited? After the battle, when I saw you with your father, you seemed so pleased to see me."

"At the time I believed in second chances."

He walked away and Silnar waited for him to leave before she ran from the room. Tearing wildly out the door that led to outside, she fairly flew over rock and pebble. Past the gardens and deep into the wild of the surrounding woods she ran until her chest heaved for air and she collapsed into a near lifeless pile of arms and legs. Her hands clenched at the grass and dirt, digging deeply in with her fingernails. She sobbed helplessly into the ground, water spilling from her eyes and down her cheeks. Her body quaked with the rush of her emotions: anger at Maglor, herself, and the circumstances that had brought her here. It was a mistake to stay here in Imladris. How had she ever thought that she could live peacefully with Elrond? How horrible of a person was she that she had not realized the damage she would create by ignoring the children who had learned to depend on her? Was it possible to be that much of a failure? _Curling into a ball, Silnar let the pain inside spread, her punishment for her own cruelty and she drifted in a sea of emptiness forgetting utterly where and when she was…_

Elrond was a gangly youth, all elbows and knees. He seemed too thin for his frame and had adopted an annoying habit of tripping over his feet. It was galling especially as his brother had retained his grace and ease throughout their adolescence. Silnar often spent extra time with him, and tried her best to ease his awkwardness. He would grow into his body someday and oh, what a day that would be! The ladies would be chasing him from sunup to sundown. At present, however, such thoughts of the future were of little condolence. She was not surprised to find him hiding in the library reading an old volume of the healing arts.

"Have you not read that one a hundred times?" She asked, and took a seat across from him. The book was laying flat on the table and his head was propped in one hand, eyes scanning the well known text. Those dark gray orbs looked up from the pages and met her cool blue ones. Today they resembled a storm ravaged sky and she assumed he had embarrassed himself again.

"I tripped in front of Isilmë."

"That is not so terrible," Silnar soothed with a touch of her hand against his cheek. Elrond backed away from her and crossed his arms. She masked her hurt with a look of concern.

"It is terrible if you are carrying a pot of burn paste and manage to dump the entire contents on her new dress," he grumbled bitterly. "Her gown is ruined and worst of all she called me a clumsy Orc. Now I will never be able to tell her how I feel."

Silnar barely masked her laughter at the situation and wished she could remember her adolescence. She was at a complete loss as how to handle a ruffled male ego. Maglor would have handled this beautifully, but he had been distant as of late. She had no desire to bother him.

"I'm sure it will all blow over," she finally said. "No one is perfect, Elrond, and if Isilmë is a truly nice elleth she will forgive you."

He huffed. "Well I'm not going to give her the chance. I'm going to hide here forever!"

"How will you eat?" Silnar asked sensibly. Practical was not what Elrond needed at the moment, however, evidenced by the red creeping up from his collar.

"Who cares? I don't care! No one understands me!" He yelled, and, completely forgetting his promise to never leave the library, Elrond stormed away…

"…but it is going to snow. There might be a blizzard."

"That is why we have cloaks," Maedhros said, his dark eyes flashing. Silnar swallowed her fear having dealt with his temper often enough in the past.

"They are still too young. Neither one of them is yet 50."

Maglor looked up from his contemplation of the fire, sadness rimming his eyes, but his features carefully blank. "They are close enough to their majority. It will be safer for them in Sirion and…Maedhros is correct it will help to soothe relations between us and the other Elves."

"Relations that you soured in the first place with that thrice-damned Oath," Silnar shouted shocking both of the brothers into momentary silence. She took a deep breath and asked in a much more calm tone, "How will you explain it to them?"

"We will tell them it is customary to foster with other families. Our home here is far too secluded at any rate and they will benefit from being around Elves closer to their age. As much as it despairs me to say so, Ereinion and Círdan will be excellent mentors for both boys," Maedhros said firmly, the subject was closed as far as he was concerned. "You have had ample time to mother them, Silnar, it is time to let go. They will soon be grown and must learn to care for themselves."

Silnar sighed and wrapped her arms protectively around her middle. "Very well, then, I can see when I am outvoted. Besides, there is nothing stopping me from accompanying them."

"No," Maedhros said harshly. "They go with an escort who will then return here. Gil-galad and Círdan have no wish for any of our household to remain with them, but the boys."

Gaping at him in shock, Silnar's teeth clenched together. "You…you…you Orc! You made him think that I had a hand in your destruction of Elwing's home! I had nothing to do with that and you know it. How could you?"

Maedhros smirked and set aside the pen he had been writing with as she yelled. "I did no such thing, but I certainly did not disabuse him of any notions he might have possibly had."

"Oh, Maedhros," Maglor said in disapproval.

"All that I have done to help you, all our years of friendship, and I am but a means to an end," Silnar said in defeat. "Why then did you even ask me to come?"

"I did not wish for you to dwell with us," Maedhros said coldly. "Maglor requested your presence. I have tolerated it for his sake, but once the boys move on I expect you to as well."

Silnar stared at this stranger whom she had once counted a dear friend. In his dark eyes there remained nothing but his dedication to his Oath. The countless years and wars had deprived him of family, friends, and hope. All that was left was his desire for revenge and the completion of his task. She turned her sad gaze to Maglor, who though unhappy, made no move to gainsay his brother. That had ever been his way and while he might hesitantly try to sway Maedhros he usually capitulated to the elder's whims.

Without a goodbye, she turned and left the study. She was not surprised to hear Maglor follow, but his words did.

"I know that Maedhros has no tact, Silnar, but he speaks with truth. It is perhaps best if you return to Galadriel."

"I see," Silnar replied stiffly. It was difficult to believe these were Elves she counted as friends.

"It is also best, I think, if we do not write the boys while they are gone," he added tentatively.

This caused her to swirl and face him, her eyes wide with shock. "How can you even suggest that?"

"It will only confuse them, Silnar. They must make Sirion their home and they must understand once and for all that we were their captors not their friends."

Speechless, she struggled for words, for air, for any response. Shaking her head, red hair flying with the movement, Silnar turned away from him. Biting her knuckle to keep from groaning, she wondered why she had even woken this morning. How could her life have changed so irrevocably in the span of an hour?

"I was not their captor," she finally forced out. "But by remaining here when I could have secreted them away makes me as much a sinner as you. I will do as you ask."

He said something in response, but the dull roaring in her ears made it difficult to understand and she strode away. Her gait was swift and angry and it was a miracle she managed to return to her rooms without attracting attention…

"…can see the sea someday? I should very much like to hear the waves. It is difficult for me to remember, Silnar…"

…The horses were impatient to begin, waving their heads, manes flying in the breeze. "I am going to meet a real King, Silnar," Elros crowed with joy. "Do you think he will let me hold Aeglos?"

"I hope Círdan has a big library," Elrond said anxiously._ "Do you think he can continue my training to be a healer…"_

"Where did you find her?" Elrond asked as he quietly tended to the feverish patient. He masked his uncertainty with movement having never dealt with illness in an Elf. They were to have been impervious from such maladies and yet here she lay, incoherent and burning to the touch.

"In the woods," Glorfindel said shortly. He was tense and angry, probably with both of them having rightly assumed she had run from an argument. "She was muttering something about Isilmë?"

Elrond started and his eyebrows puckered. "Isilmë? Now there is a name I have not heard in years. She was talking of her?"

Glorfindel nodded, blonde hair waving with the movement. His braids were falling out and there was a scratch on his cheek from his uncharacteristic run through the trees. He had been nearly crazy with fear and worry after bringing back the limp form of Silnar and Elrond could hardly remember a time when the unflappable warrior had been so distraught. "Do you know of whom she speaks?"

He was quiet for a moment as he bathed her sweating brow and then said, "She was a young elleth I fancied as a youth. I was rather taken with her and made quite a fool of myself. Silnar never really approved of her. She thought her vain and selfish."

"She was probably right," Glorfindel grumbled and then moved away from the bed. He stood before a tightly latched window, staring at the distant stars. They glimmered and winked, the familiar constellations bringing no comfort tonight, and he wished for a brief insane moment that he was in Tirion with his family. Closing his eyes against stars and wishes, he thrust his mind back into reality and returned to Elrond's side.

"I do not want to know why I found Silnar in the woods delirious with grief, but I want you to fix it, now."

"I am trying," Elrond said gruffly. "I have never dealt with anything like this."

Glorfindel cut a hand through the air interrupting the healer's words. "I meant fix this mess between you two. No more hedging, no more arguments, no more avoidance. You are both acting like children and frankly, I am tired of it. I do not care what old wounds have festered over the years…grow up."

With that the warrior turned on his heel and strode out of the Healing room. Elrond watched him exit, shocked at the harsh truth of his words. It was galling to be told by a giant child to grow up. He looked back down at the tossing Silnar and whispered soothing words. He ran his hands over her face and across her head, imparting some of his strength. Her restlessness ceased and she seemed slightly cooler to the touch. It was going to be a long night and he only hoped he could succeed once more in pulling her from Mandos' door.

* * *

Light suffused her surroundings, warm and gentle, soothing and comforting. All of her worries drifted away with nary a thought and she reveled in the calm serenity. Her name, her home, her friends…none of it mattered anymore. She was at true peace and she had no desire to leave.

_Sweet child of mine, blossom of my heart, I wish that you could remain, but your task has not even begun._

The voice was familiar…a memory from her childhood. It reminded her of home…her true home.

_You must return to them my darling one. Someday we will be reunited this I promise._

Silnar slowly opened her eyes, revealing the smooth contours of the ceiling of the room of Healing. She was swathed in sheets and blankets and struggled weakly to move them. Her skin felt clammy and sticky, making her ache for a warm bath and answers as to what had happened. She finally pushed aside her covers and gradually stood. Her legs felt like rubber and she gripped the bedpost for a moment to get her bearings. Memories of her flight into the woods filtered back and she felt her face bloom red in embarrassment. So much for mending fences. Glorfindel was probably furious. She swallowed hard. Glorfindel was in a chair. Near her bed.

His eyes were unfocused in sleep and she assumed from his rumpled clothing and messy hair that he had been there for some time. He had probably tried to remain awake until sheer exhaustion won. How long had she been sleeping? She released the bedpost and attempted a few steps. The whisper of her nightgown had him jolting awake and she felt guilty for disturbing him. His blue-gray eyes focused and then took in her sheepish face.

"You are awake? Are you sure you are well enough to stand?" He came to his feet and rushed to her side, his warm hands encompassing her cheeks. "Your skin feels normal again."

"Normal? What do you mean?"

"You had a-a fever, Elrond said. He could not explain it. He said it was something men developed. It is no matter, you are well again."

"A fever? Impossible! I have dealt with fevers plenty of times on Númenor. I could not possibly have a fever."

Glorfindel shrugged one shoulder almost carelessly. "What does it matter so long as you are well?"

"I…I am afraid that once more Elrond and I parted on terrible terms. I am beginning to think reconciliation is impossible. Perhaps it would be best if I left."

"And where would you go?" Glorfindel demanded.

Silnar gave him a wan smile. "There are plenty of places. Galadriel has asked me often to visit her in Lothlórien and I have been meaning to visit Valandil."

"You have a duty here," he argued. "You have responsibilities now. Will you abandon them?"

Before she could respond her eyes left his and settled on the familiar form of Elrond hovering in the doorway. Glorfindel turned as well and gestured for the Master of Imladris to join them.

"I am glad to see you up and about," Elrond began as he approached. "Though you might have been a tad hasty in leaving your bed so soon."

Silnar gave him a slightly disgusted look but refrained from commenting. Glorfindel shot her a warning glance and then said, "Perhaps now would be a good time to continue any previous discussions that might have ended roughly?"

"No," Silnar said firmly. "I am taking a long awaited bath and relaxing in the privacy of my room. Anything else will merely have to wait."

There was a hesitant knock on the doors to the room and the three Elves turned to see a hesitant elleth peeking inwards. Glorfindel immediately smiled to put her at ease. "What is it, Linndúlin?"

"Forgive me for the intrusion my lords, my lady, but the Lady Galadriel from Lothlórien has arrived. She is asking for the Lady Silnar."

"Thank you, Linndúlin," Silnar said. "Please see that she is given rooms. I will be with her shortly."

The elleth left and Silnar sighed. "Galadriel arrived sooner then I thought. If you will both excuse me I must bathe and greet her."

She left before either Elf could protest and hurried to her rooms. Galadriel's arrival was a boon unlooked for and she was grateful she had made all haste.


End file.
